And So The Moon Doth Wane
by SailorSilvanesti
Summary: Response to September 2011 Grab-Bag Challenge. Hers was the saddest tale of ElfQuest, yet never Fully explored until now. I sought to give her a voice, and so, here is Crescent...first cub to Strongbow & Moonshade. This is how she died.


**Disclaimer: I do not own ElfQuest, that enviable honour is that of the Pini's...**

**Response to the September 2011 Grab-bag Challenge, in which the following Elements must be encompassed: **

**Mud, Bleeding [**Physically, emotionally, metaphorically**], Trapped [**Feeling/Literal**], School [**Education, Learning, a Lesson**] & Chameleon [**Blending in, Invisibility, the animal, conforming.**]**

**Here is what came from my weird mind about a story that needed a better ending...**

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><p><strong>And So the Moon Doth Wane...<strong>

**~)0(~**

Large, dark eyes surveyed her world...shivering in anticipation of the chase, which she would duly give. Hidden from sight behind a simple jutting crag in the riverbed, slimy tendrils of deep green weed draped over the lithe, unencumbered form...

Rendering her invisible to her prey. The ultimate predator...

The giant water-creature shuddered past in swift movements, tail flicking back and forth, back and forth with ridiculously small fins being used to propel a body ill-proportioned for such flight... No, it could not see where she hid with cool eyes watching and waiting; but in some primal way...it knew she was here...it knew she brought death in her hands...

The large fish grew closer and closer until the young huntress could all but touch her slender, though gently calloused fingers, to it's side...one hand slid down to sift through the mud below for the weapon. Fashioned carefully from the Father tree's own branches for best stability in hunting, the spear -Pike appraised and approved, naturally- was just the right dimensions for her aquatic task.

Swift as an eel, Crescent darted out from her hiding place and speared the creature as quickly as possible...the light in it's eyes dimmed almost before her thrust stopped; a good death. Swift as the current and relatively painless. She silently thanked the High Ones for it's life and had a sudden realisation that her lungs were full of fire, rather than air, in this cool, liquid world.

Laughter burbled from her lungs almost as swiftly as she breached the surface in a wave of wet hair and exultant whooping, her first catch unsupervised! Mother and Father would be very pleased...

Indeed, as swiftly as her thoughts turned to them, she sent, _*Mother, Father, you will not believe the size of the fish I have caught...for...us...*_

It was then her eyes detected the intruders, large, muscular savages...humans, they styled themselves... Two males leered down from the banks; words garbled back and forth between the pair, seeming to excite either...like the Tribe's wolves in the dark depths of a blood-frenzy...

Their babbling made no sense to anyone bar themselves, thought they seemed terrifyingly proud...

_Look to the Demon, Kuran! Gotara be praised, Shaman will be pleased!_the elder cried, waving about a stick, which her beautiful eyes flickered back and forth to watch, lest any chance to escape passed her by...

Too late. Always too late...

The second pounced on her in the momentary span between breaths, his hard wepon piercing her throat with it's tip, crimson blood trickled down the crude blade as her eyes were forced to stare directly into his cold, earth-brown orbs...

The corse-face creature sneered close and pressed the blade deeper until she flinched, and he laughed.

_*The Will of Gotara must be obeyed, Demon...you think this is pain? You will learn...yes, you will learn. All hail Gotara!*_

He cried at the top of his voice and swung the blade high, stopping only fractionally enough for the cub to realise he meant to hit nothing vital on the first strike, then plunged it down...

She did what was instinct for her, called for her parent's aid...

Though, as the crimson-clad dagger came down the second time...she knew it would be too late...

~~~~~~~)0(~~~~~~~~~

High. Piercing. Soul-Destroying.

The instinctual knowledge filled them both, even as it tapered to a thin, quiet whine and Strongbow fell from his perch in the high branches of Father Tree...while Moonshade's eyes grew haunted...

Life bleeding from their faces as pure horror took over...their child was dead.

~~~~~~)0(~~~~~~~~

Even as Bearclaw took Strongbow in his arms and Moonshade was both comforted, and restrained, by Woodlock and Rainsong; the scent of desperation and hope lost filled the small Holt as many hearts bled for their friends.

"Crescent...A Mind...Scream..." whispered Strongbow in his arms, eyes wide and unseeing; Bearclaw's heart hardened in fear, anger and just plain sorrow...if Crescent had...maybe she could be-

No, hope died alongside the child as the archer whispered brokenly, "...then...nothing..."

His own tears were hot as they pressed against his eyelids, but they would not fall; not until he knew, not until he was _certain_. He was Chieftain, thus it must be so, and so it shall be. That is 'The Way'.

~~~~~)0(~~~~~

When one is fending off a semi-feral, growling archer who is trying his damndest to render you limb from limb, or at least, block off the air from your throat with his bow...there is little one can do but retaliate. Though it hurt his heart to do so...Bearclaw mustered a desperate strength and struck Strongbow harshly, felling him instantly.

Pike panted and wiped at his bleeding lip, though the expression of pain was more that of someone who wished he could have held the other and brought comfort, to take away the harsh realities that had been learnt when Crescent's leathers had been found drenched in deep, sticky red liquid. So fresh, so raw...so much.

"Take him back to the Holt, tell them to guard him...I will see to this." he spoke back as Pike lifted the other onto his wolf and slid up behind him, the seldom-sober eyes were -for once- completely clear in an almost worrying sobriety for the first time in such a long time, memory failed.

~~~~~~)0(~~~~~~~

Unsettled as he faced the one who had single-handedly stirred those savages into a frenzy for their silly bear-god or whatever it was... Bearclaw stared down the imposing figure of the Shaman, a considerable task considering the height differences.

However, it seemed he found the Human at an exceptionally good time of night...for the tall creature was cringing, cowed and subdued...never actually having been told how to react should he come face to face with an actual demon, by his predecessor.

He whispered words to that bear-skin rug they all worshiped and danced in on occasion, and Bearclaw sincerely hoped it was a prayer, for it made the whole situation that much more...primal. His inner wolf delighting in the wide-eyed horror he instilled in the Shaman as his blade flashed out slid through the thick flesh of the human's throat...

With a soft flopping noise, the head hit the ground and rolled; an upright body quivered and sank to it's knees almost comincally, before tilting sideways and falling in the dust with scarlet liquid seeping in every direction. It flecked his face also, the deep magenta droplets drying in sticky patches on clothes, hair and skin...

The urge to lick it off his blade was there...but he resisted and bound the head up in spare leather he had brought for this very purpose, it leaked only a small amount onto his leggings as he hefted the item over his shoulder...

Knowing those who awaited in the Holt had suffered a fate worse than death, Bearclaw steeled himself this one moment, and turned to peer through the concealing bushes, at the strange stone of the human's. This 'Pillar of Sacrifice' as it had been crudely termed...

Many skulls glistened upon it's surface, but the newest, smallest of them all burrowed deep to his core and brought the deepest grief...

"You are avenged, sweet child, go to the High Ones arms and seek peace..." he whispered softly in an emotion-thick voice, and could have sworn, though it may have been a trick of the human's firelight, that he saw the cub standing there a moment. As transparent as the cool breeze but enough substance to quietly smile, nod and turn away...ascending high into the blue, her journey both ended and begun.

The head weighed heavily on his arm, though his heart was light...Bearclaw turned to make for the Holt, and give comfort to two grieving parents. Who knew, maybe they would see her once again...?

The Chieften of the Wolfriders never knew how right he was...

~~~~~)0(~~~~~

Far away from Space and Time, in the safety of the Palace, she sat and awaited the day to come when she would see her parents again... IT was quiet here, peaceful, safe.

It was trye what they said about Elves, it seemed...Crescent mused, _For us, Death is only the Beginning_...

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><p><strong>The End<strong>

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it...<strong>

**Please Review...if you feel like it.**

**~*SailorSilvanesti*~**


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